


silky

by spitboy



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Broken Bones, Canon-Typical Violence, Coping, Corpses, Death, Eddie Gluskin Being Eddie Gluskin, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Gay, Gay Character, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, Homophobia, Homosexuality, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injury, M/M, Mad Scientists, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Mount Massive Asylum, Murkoff Corporation, Mutilation, Necrophilia, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Outlast: Whistleblower, Overstimulation, POV Waylon Park, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rating: M, Recovery, Scary, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Serial Killers, Serious Injuries, Sexual Content, Slurs, Trauma, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-23 21:09:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 18,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21087872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spitboy/pseuds/spitboy
Summary: the happy ending Eddie Gluskin rightfully deserved.





	1. hey, i'm waylon park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After trying to send an anonymous email to investigative journalist, Miles Upshur about shutting Mount Massive and Murkoff Corporations down, Waylon Park has been admitted into Mount Massive Asylum against his will by Jeremy Blaire and forced into Murkoff's morphogenic engine program. The asylum goes to shit and absolute anarchy as the Walrider gets loose and frees all of the violent inmates from their captivity. This begins the aftermath.

Okay. Fuck fuck fuck shit. Need to hide. 

I darted through the long, dark halls, running from the sound of clattering chains and heavy footsteps coming towards me. God, I’ve been here for two days but it feels more like ten years. I already regret taking this job, but I know deep down I have to go through with it. Lives are on the line here. I made the stupid decision to glance behind me. “OH, SHIT.” 

His bloodied, mangled face was closer to catching up with me then I thought. God, what a big fucking guy. Barely human anymore. Chris Walker was his name. I picked up his documents when I first walked in. He’s got a thing for extreme physical violence and decapitation. Which happen to be two things that I’m personally not very fond of. In his files it was stated that his face was mutilated the way it was due to severe anxiety which seemed to have manifested in the form of a skin picking disorder. His nose and all the cartilage was peeled away in a gruesome fashion, revealing two bloody nostril cavities fully exposed and tightening with every exhale. His swollen gums were exposed and his lips were completely gone, leaving thick, bloody saliva and mucus spilling down his chin and splashing onto the floor as he ran and growled at me. "I'm coming. You won't have to kill yourself." His words made me shiver as i ran. 

I picked up my speed as adrenaline coursed through my body and turned into a small cell. My eyes caught onto a quick escape on the wall.

Oh! Finally! A fucking vent!

I slammed the door to the room and leaped up, grabbing at the entrance to the open vent, hoisting myself up and crawling forward. The door flung back open and smashed the wall as he stomped into the room at the exact moment i brought my leg up into the vent. I waited until the sound of Chris Walkers’ footsteps faded away. 

“…Little pig. Nasty whore…” he uttered before walking away in the direction from which our chase originated. 

I started quietly crawling through the vent, it was dark as hell and dusty. The smell of blood and shit wafted past me as I was crawling. I tried my best not to gag too loudly. I can’t fucking believe I’m stuck here right now, I’m definitely quitting if I make it outta here alive. 

But God, on the other hand, to see my name in every news article, to be the one who shuts down Murkoff singlehandedly and saves all of these poor, sick motherfuckers from being lab rats for the rest of their lives? That was too tempting of an offer. Unfortunately for me, an inmate snatched my camcorder about an hour back. Now I’m on the hunt to find it and not die.

“Waylon Park exposes Murkoff Corporation for its disturbing treatment of patients. America’s newest hero, a spokesman/advocate for the mentally ill, and a top detective.” 

How cool would that be?… Oh shit, I almost forgot, I’m crawling through a suffocating air duct. Gotta save the daydreaming for later. 

All of a sudden my thoughts were interrupted by the deafening sound of metal folding and slamming the ground. I opened my eyes and was seeing stars.

I fell right through the vent. I have no idea where I am. All I know is the smell of iron is getting even stronger and thicker, and my fatass busted right through a wooden table when I fell. I got up, dusted myself off and started walking out from the room I crash landed in. While I was walking, I almost immediately noticed things were…weird. For the first time out of my entire visit so far, I saw no living patients in my general frame of view. It was eerily quiet, except for the consistent dripping of god knows what from the ceiling. Probably a bloated corpse stuffed in the vent. I should be thankful I fell through instead of having to deal with that later on. 

After walking for a good 15 minuets more, I have no idea where the hell I'm going, and the smell of fresh organs and blood is alarmingly apparent. Christ, I’m gonna start choking. It’s so strong. 

…

Wait. I hear something. I inched forward on my tippy toes and slid over a desk blocking the pitch black hallway. I know this is a bad idea, but my body won’t stop walking towards the sound. The sound of a buzz saw. 


	2. frank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waylon Park runs into Mount Massive's friendly local cannibal.

Two things are running through my mind right now. First of all; where the fuck did (who I’m assuming to be) an inmate in a mental asylum get an electric saw? 

Second of all: Why cant I stop walking towards it?

I approached a narrow entrance to a dark, barely lit room. The lights were flickering, but stayed on just long enough for me to quickly take in the surroundings of the area.

Long metal tables and chairs knocked over everywhere. It looked like it used to be a staff dining room or something. Everything was coated in dried and fresh blood. There were disembodied organs and limbs scattered around the floor and tables. As well as large intestines strung from pipes on the ceiling which were dripping brownish red fluid. The smell. Oh god, the smell. Unforgettable. I bent over and violently hurled the second my brain registered what I was witnessing. When I lifted my head up I realized my entire body was quivering. My teeth were chattering.

I’m so goddamn scared.

I did my best to get my thoughts together, held my breath, and pushed aside chairs, stepping through the small maze-like shape the tables made. It was almost too dark to see where I was stepping.

“Oh, what the FUCK?” I yelled instinctively as warm blood was splattered on me. I clasped my hands over my mouth and glanced up confused and in disgust, suddenly realizing I was almost face to face with a fucking buzzsaw wielding psychopathic cannibal. The only thing between us was broken glass and a thin half-wall. My jaw dropped. His face was covered in scraggly, wiry hair. His torso and chest seemed to have been carved into, and there was bright, wet blood coating him from almost top to bottom. I could see the muscle inside of his open wounds contorting and twisting. He didn’t even look up at me at first. I almost passed out feeling my eyes roll into the back of my head for a moment. I backed away as slowly and quietly as I could. 

“Mmm, yes. More. MORE.” He dove his bony hand into the open chest cavity of what looked to be another inmate who was mutilated beyond recognition. A shaky finger traced the side of the broken jaw almost lovingly, in a sick, twisted way. “Look how you bleed for me. Wet. Ready. Red. Wanting.” He moaned out, drooling, before taking a huge bite out of the still barely beating heart. He looked up at me. “Don’t run too far… I’m starving. I know you’re hungry too. I can see it…” Licking his cracked lips he reached his hand into the mans mouth, shoved his arm down his throat and begun fishing around, making direct eye contact with me the entire time. I could see his hand poke through the man’s ribcage, and he stroked the inside of his ribs in an almost sexual manner. A shiver ran up my spine. I almost puked again. I’ve never seen someone who just looked so… passionately starving. 

Waylon, run. Run. Run. Run. Run. RUN.


	3. feed me

I immediately took off, clumsily putting one foot in front of the other and knocking over metal chairs. I’m running for my life. I can barely breathe. I knew any second now I could look behind me and see a weapon wielding cannibal hunting me down, chasing me, ready to open me up and consume my innards, desecrating my body like he’s done to so many others. The thought made me shudder so hard I almost toppled over while running. 

I came to a complete stop “Shit… oh god, I’m dead. I’m so dead.” I whispered to myself. The door was locked, barred, and blocked with random items from the other side. My brain is telling me to give up and die, but my body won’t stop searching for ways to get out of this hellhole. My eyes darted around as my fingers brushed up against the walls, desperately searching for something. Anything. I don’t even know what the fuck I was looking for at this point.

”You can't hide. Meat. Lonely flesh.” Along with the revving of the saw erupted from the hallway. 

Fuck. How long have I been searching for a way out already? 

My fight or flight kicked in. I started hyperventilating. I looked over my shoulder and saw his elongated, twisted shadow slowly approaching. My eyes darted around the narrow hallway looking for other doors. Nothing. 

…wait.

Shit. There’s only one way out. My heart stopped as I noticed an open window. 

“Feed me. Feed me. FEED ME.” The chant got louder and louder, and his footsteps got heavier and closer. I took a deep breath and made a break for it. It all happened in slow motion. As I ran, he leaped towards me. Slicing a piece of my sleeve off, almost getting my forearm. I hopped up on the windowsill, sliding out and pressing my body up against to the side of the building. My hand grasped the window and tears started falling down my cheeks. The cold air from outside made it sting. “NO. NO! You were supposed to be MINE.” He screeched as I heard him angrily swinging around the saw. “I’ll find you. I’ll get you. My beautiful meat.” His footsteps faded as he stomped away. I felt a sharp pain on my arm. Looking down to my side I noticed that he nicked it pretty bad with his saw. It was bleeding through my uniform. Ouch. 

I looked out onto the grounds of the asylum and tried to catch my breath. I started inching to the side. Maybe if I keep scooting by I’ll find another open window to jump into. This place is huge. I can’t even see the end of it all the way from up on the 4th floor of this building.

As I’m observing I can sort of make out other inmates wandering aimlessly. 

Hmm… oh, that’s nice! There’s a basketball court down there. Looks like a friendly game is going on. Wait, is that…? A head. They’re shooting with a bloody, severed head. Why is this still the nicest interaction I’ve witnessed this entire time?

I sighed shakily. I was approaching the end of the ledge I was walking on with still no open windows in sight. I guess I have to make my way down somehow. Damn. 

My eyes scanned the ground for anything I could safely land on. Maybe a shitty mattress or another ledge I could crawl down onto. Something caught my eye. A stained curtain flowing in the light breeze below me. An open window! Yes! 

I eyed my surroundings and started to slide down as slowly and carefully as possible, still grasping onto some deep cracks in the wall. I stuck my right leg out and almost plunged to what would’ve probably been my immediate death. Jesus. What am I supposed to do now? 

“Hey!” I heard a hoarse voice say. I looked around and saw a pale arm reach out from the window below and wave. “I saw a leg. Is somebody up there?” It hissed out. I thought to myself that I couldn’t come across anybody more terrifying then I’ve already met. So why the hell not. 

“Yeah. I’m kind of s-stuck.” I managed to stammer out. A face popped out from the window and stared straight up at me. It was difficult to tell if his features were contorted because of the horrible dark lighting outside, or if he was one of the poor souls who were experimented on by Dr. Wernicke’s surgeons from Hell. Or maybe he was even thrown into the morphogenic engine program unwillingly. I swallowed hard at the sight. 

“Here. Lemme help you out.” He outstretched his long, thin arms. This had to be one of the most risky things I’ve done since arriving, but what other choice do I have? I bit the inside of my cheek and let go of the cracks almost without hesitation, falling straight into this mentally ill stranger’s arms. I can’t believe he actually caught me. His arms shook violently as he was pulling me in. Not only did he appear almost emaciated, but I was a little bit of a chubbier guy. I examined his face in the dim light of the room. It looked almost abstracted. His eyes were blank and the skin where his lips should’ve been were pulled up to reveal rotting, bloodied teeth. He was covered in stitches and scars and completely hairless as far as I could tell. I felt as if I was in physical pain just looking at him. He reached out and dusted my shoulders off. While doing so I noticed his right hand had all the fingers fused together. It looked like a bloody stump covered in a strange, rancid smelling fungus. Man, I can’t wait to shut this place down and bring these people justice. 

“What are you doing crawling outside of the ward? You crazy or something?” He snickered and scratched his shoulder. There was a bloody patch where his skin was already raw and falling off from what I assumed was due to constant picking.

“Crazy. Ha. Very funny.” I gave him a pity laugh and crossed my arms, trying to remain calm. “I’m really just trying to find my way out of here, man. I’m not supposed to be in this place. No offense.” 

“I can tell… you’re too pretty and clean. Silky… You’re not all… f-fucked up like the others and I. You need to leave before you get popular around here.” He rhythmically tapped his head a few times and wiped a string of drool falling from his mouth. Grabbing my hand, he led me outside of the room and pointed with his fused fingers to an elevator. “Go. Before the man downstairs finds out you’re here.” He whined and pushed me foreword. I spun around confused.

”Wait. The man downsta-“ the door to his room slammed and locked. I could hear his muffled moans and whimpers from the hallway. “So, so silky… smooth…” I heard him utter between cries. I heard him moan softly. Wonderful. He’s jerking off to me. I shuddered and begun walking towards the elevator. 

The man downstairs?


	4. courtyard

I shook my head as if to forget what just happened and begun walking towards the elevator. 

“They’re crawling… in my skin. It itches. It BURNS.”

I shivered. I’ve been hearing nothing but gibberish and snippets of schizophrenic breakdowns since I got here. Every room I pass by is almost as if I can hear these men’s mental states diminishing and rotting. The screaming and begging won’t stop. 

“Mmm, yeah. Oh, yeah. So silky. Dead meat. Still warm.” 

My eyes shot open. I heard the wet, gnarly thrusting and the flopping of the limp carcass from inside the room to my right. The amount of necrophilia I’ve witnessed within the last few hours could last me about fifty million lifetimes. Yet every time I still get repulsed and sickened. There’s something about watching a deformed man passionately fuck a bloody dead body that really changes a person.  
“STOP SHEDDING ON ME, YOU FUCK.”

I genuinely don’t want to know what that means in any context. I started speed walking, as I didn’t wanna be the variants next unwarranted buttfuck of the night. When I reached the elevator, I repeatedly pressed the button to go down. Waiting for it to arrive felt like slow motion. My eyes were rapidly flashing around and I started sweating intensely. All the sounds and screams around me were amplified and my heart begun to race. I could feel it in my throat.

Why is it taking so long? I feel like any second I’m gonna be shanked or raped or disemboweled. Everything happens so fast around here. I just want to go home.

DING

Finally! I quite literally jumped into the elevator, slamming against the back wall and violently pressing the first floor button followed by the ‘close door’ button over and over again. I cracked my knuckles and stretched for the brief moment I didn’t have to watch my surroundings intensely. I glanced downwards; I was so distracted by my anxiety waiting for the elevator that I didn’t even notice the bloated, dismembered corpse that was on the ground. Well; less of a corpse. More of just the chest and torso.

Why am I not more disgusted or sad? Am I really getting used to this? Am I losing my sanity just being here? 

The doors opened and I stepped out. The elevator stopped a little too short of ground level, just enough that I had to jump down. Looking left from right, I spotted the front doors of the building wide open. I booked it straight foreword and outside with zero hesitation. It was so dark. The only light that was present was emanating from what looked to be streetlights, which barely lit up a filthy pathway. It didn’t look like there weren't too many patients outside anymore tonight. There were barely any I could see from the windowsill I was stuck on earlier. It was absolutely freezing, and raining a little too. Anybody who was wandering around out here was probably dying of frostbite, since these shitty uniforms they make the patients wear are thin as paper. It was 40° Fahrenheit. On top of being forced into this useless getup, I’m barefoot and covered in blisters. I refuse to look at my feet because I know If I do I’ll be unsettled by the blood all over them. I’m just relieved they’re numb from the cold, as bad as that sounds. 

I completely forgot about searching for my camcorder. I didn’t even know where I was going. I was honestly just looking for another building to step into because I was violently shivering at this point. Besides that, I didn’t see any exits. Only barbed electrical fences that seemed to stretch on for miles around the entire perimeter of the courtyard. Too tall and risky to climb. My fingers would inevitably be burnt to a crisp if I attempted. I wish I knew where the control panel was to switch the electrical currents off, but I was never allowed in the courtyard while working. Only in the labs with the ‘scientists’, and only for a few minuets at a time while working on computers and programming. The little amount I witnessed before being thrown in here by Blaire against my will was saddening and disturbing enough. I saw what was being done in those morphogenic engines. I was unsure of the true purpose, but I was aware of the pain that came in accompany with being trapped inside of one… was it worth the “psychological discoveries”? Probably not. 

I spotted another building directly in front of my field of vision. It was actually decently lit up from the inside, plus walking past all these iffy, dark sheds and basements with disembodied whispers coming from inside of them made me feel as if it was my best option as of now. There was a fountain right outside it filled with thick, clotting blood. I shakily pushed open the doors and was instantaneously greeted by the sight of three large inmates covered in dripping blood beating the shit out of another one. They each turned, saw me and tore down the hallway as fast as they could, panting aggressively. Their footprints were tracking behind them with thick blood. I reluctantly glanced down at the man who was beaten. His leg was bent backwards and he was completely naked. Bruised and lesioned from his head to his toes and covered in piss. Probably a victim of a brutal gang rape prior to his beating. His eye had exploded and the remanence of what looked to be blood mixed with puss and the cord of his eye were dripping down his face. His nose was kicked into his skull and his teeth were scattered around him. His cheeks folded over themselves like dog jowls and were a dark purple… and… Was there a bite taken out of his arm? I couldn’t believe his chest was still heaving up and down. He’s alive. I bent down over him sympathetically and opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He gargled, softly. His mouth was full of blood. 

“Too alive…”  
He died immediately after uttering those words. His mouth was stuck open and dark blood mixed with saliva and bile begun to spill out slowly like a broken faucet. I didn’t get to say anything. I didn’t get to tell him how sorry I was for his pain. I was so, so sorry.

I stood up, wiped my eyes with my sleeves, placed my hands on my hips and took a deep breath, forcing my vision away from the man who was just battered to death in front of me. I spotted what looked to be a dark staircase residing within a room in the far distance and turned to begin walking towards it.

“There's more than one way to fuck a cat. Come on!” A pale, shirtless bloke covered in stitches with only one eye ran past me in a hurry. Closely followed by a rawboned, naked, hungry looking man who had been nullified. The naked man pushed me to the side leaving a filthy handprint on my chest and pointed to the deceased, heavily beaten inmate on the floor. 

“You gonna finish that?” He laughed, kicked the limp body, sending fluids flying into the air and skipped away nonchalantly. 

I started making my way towards that staircase I laid my eyes on. Hopefully it’ll lead me to a safe exit. Away from these fucking lunatics.

Anyways, I guess this was my introduction to the vocational block.

How lovely.


	5. dennis

“Oh shit, my head… what the hell happened?”

I pried my eyes open and my vision was clouded with black and white blobs, dancing around in front of me. Did I hit my head? The last thing I remember is climbing up a huge, rickety spiral staircase. I sat up, rubbing the back of my throbbing skull. I had a lump. Wonderful. Where even am I? I thought I was in the vocational block. I must’ve fallen right through those stairs. I let out a low, painful groan.

“I hear somethin', I swear…”

“Everybody, just quiet the fuck down for a spell.” A penetrating, Texan accent hissed out from a short distance. 

I tightened my lips and the hair on my arms stood straight up. Who the fuck said that? Were there multiple people in here with me? 

I sprang up in fear and glanced down. Fuck. I’m in pain. My ankle was swollen and bloodied. I must’ve broken a bone when I fell. I stood up and accidentally let out a loud, sharp gasp. 

“Shh…”

”We have an interloper.”

What? Oh god. I need to get out of here. Focus. Oh wait! Over there! 

I limped over to a thin wooden wall with a huge hole busted through it. Climbing up a wobbly set of crates, i snaked over and landed with an obnoxious thump on the floor below me. I’m gonna end up literally killing myself with all these falls if the variants don’t finish my dumbass off first. I think I might have a mild concussion at this point, on top of all my other injuries. I stood up slowly, realizing I was in a really tight space. The spot in which I came down on is a narrow area between another thin wooden wall. There was mold everywhere. I inhaled deeply and did my best to hold my breath as to not get too dizzied. It was so dusty in here.

BUMP! CRASH! BANG!

”Rats in the walls! Kill the rats!“

”He’s here! Inside the walls!” 

FUCK. He found me. They found me? Whoever it was found me and was trying to violently break through the walls to get me. I hurriedly staggered through the dark pathway trying to avoid the impacts and splintered wood being pushed in my direction. I jumped up and over another stack of crates and landed on my feet this time, staggering foreword a few feet from the impact. A loud thump followed closely behind me. I peeked over my shoulder with a sharp exhale. A stocky but fit bald man with wide eyes and dark circles was almost bulldozing towards me, carrying what looked to be a chewed up baseball bat. He had bloodstains on his hands and on the pant legs of his uniform. There was a massive contusion on his cheek and jaw, and his skin was peeling as if it was sunburned. “Dennis…?” I recognized him from walking in on a past session about a month ago. He had severe DID. The therapists called him “Dissociative Dennis” behind his back, which was kind of rude I always thought. I realized he wasn’t stopping his pursuit anytime soon and yelped, hobbling away as fast as I could, trying to block out the sound of Dennis talking and cursing himself out. Where the hell do I go? I don’t know where I am. It’s like walking through a maze of shelves and nooses. Shit.

I made a quick turn and jumped up a tall, weathered bookshelf. I propelled myself upwards with my good leg, which was hit hard with the bat he was carrying as I was pulling it up. Damn, am I in some serious pain. I log rolled over the shelf and down into a room that was completely closed off, nothing but old dusty furniture blocking the doors from the outside and a large entrance to what I assumed was a basement. 

“Oh, Gluskin's gonna have fun with you, boy.”

“A gift for the Groom…” 

I heard Dennis’ voice echo in the distance beyond the walls. His footsteps faded. 

What the hell is he talking about? ‘The Groom’? Probably just more nonsensical asylum talk. A figment of his imagination. Maybe even another “personality”. This place is making me feel insane and I’ve only been here for maybe two or three days. Imagine residing here for most of your adult life. Disheartening to think about. I sighed at the thought and my breath got caught in my throat for a moment. I genuinely don’t know what to do. I almost feel like I should allow my inevitable fate to consume me. Though at the same time, I want this place shut the fuck down. It’s abhorrent what is done to these people. Most of them probably not even worthy of being here in the first place. Like myself.

As much as I want to be pissed off and livid at the patients I’ve been forced to interact with for their horrifying actions committed while here, there’s a reason that they’re so fucked in the head. It’s Murkoff’s fault. It’s Dr. Wernicke’s fault. Jeremy Blaire’s fault. Richard Trager’s fault. Every crooked doctor, scientist, therapist, security officer and “surgeon” here. It’s all their faults for being involved. I’m determined to get them locked up. They allow the murder. The mutilation. The experiments. The rape. The torture. The cannibalism. They even encourage it to a degree. 

I have to keep reminding myself why I’m here in the first place so I don’t lose my identity. I can’t allow myself to become a variant. I am not an inmate. I’m not one of them. 

I’m not crazy.


	6. case number: 196

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie’s personal files peak Waylon’s interest.

I took a seat on the creaky floorboards and paused for a few moments to breathe. Now that Dennis wasn’t hot on my track trying to pummel me with a baseball bat, I could focus on my physicality, which was swiftly going to shit. Let’s see. I got sliced in the arm with a buzzsaw, a lump in the back of my head and a broken foot from falling over 30 feet, a concussion, I’m covered in bruises and cuts, Dennis busted a blood vessel in my calf, I can’t find my goddamn camera and I’ve probably contracted over 50 brand new STDS just from touching doorknobs alone. 

Though for some reason I’m not dead yet. Life is good.

I sighed and threw my face into my hands. Great. Now I can’t stop crying. 

“Shh!” I heard Dennis utter from a distance.

I wanted to yell at him to shut the fuck up. To leave me alone. That I’m going to die here and to let me reminisce about my life and misery in peace. I just want to wallow. However, I just couldn’t muster up the voice.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks and blew a snot rocket out onto the floor. Glancing over to a corner, I noticed another patient document. “Excellent.” I uttered sarcastically to myself. Another lunatic to deal with. I unenthusiastically opened it and my eyes were instantaneously drawn to the patients photo, which fell out into my lap from in between pages. I’ve seen so many inmates here. They all appeared so inhuman. So beaten, battered, nullified, bloodied, monstrous. This man though, he came across as being so normal. At least in his photo. Oddly appealing, actually. His eyes were icy blue. He had a prominent jawline and cheekbones which were attached to a muscular neck. His hair was neatly slicked back and his complexion, though he had some scarring, appeared soft in comparison to the other variants. It really looked like he cared for his appearance, which was truly shocking to me. I felt an abrupt curiosity for his story and background. I flipped open the Manila folder and scanned the information. 

"Case Number: 196  
Patient: EDDIE GLUSKIN  
Patient Age: 46  
Gender: Male  
Observing Physician: Dr. Garrett Snow”

General information. Uninteresting. Though I’ll remember that name, it sounds familiar…

“INTERVIEW NOTES:

Gluskin remains a frustrating interview subject; he's still trying to tell us what he thinks we want to hear, while studiously avoiding certain elements of the truth. His childhood remains an obvious fiction, he's claiming to have grown up in "Leave it to Beaver," despite a traumatically violent ongoing sexual experience that is a matter of public and medical record. When I confronted him with the photographs his father and uncle took, he responded with a mixture of laughter and anger, and restraints were issued.

He similarly refuses to discuss his victims, both categorically and specifically. When I showed him pictures of the women, he would not admit that they were dead or mutilated.”

Oh, wonderful. So he’s a serial killer. My eyes darted back up to the interview notes and I winced, rereading the sexual trauma bit. I flipped the page and almost threw up; There was a detailed confession of his uncle and father’s horrific crimes that was signed off by a criminal defense lawyer and judge, accompanied by the abundant amount of photos taken showing proof of Gluskin’s abuse. I didn’t mean to see it, but I accidentally absorbed some of the information. I was sickened beyond belief. My stomach did flips. “Sexually abused and battered from ages 3-22.” How the fuck did they get away with it for so long? 

I for some reason found myself reaching within my heart and opening it for this guy. I don’t even know if he’s still alive or not, but god do I feel sympathy. I feel the urge to confront him and tell him everything will be okay. Even if it won’t be. It feels weird and unkind to say in my head, but I can almost see his point of view when it comes to his crimes. Show somebody absolutely no compassion, trust or gentleness, only abuse and rape them for their entire life; there you have a destined to be serial killer. It’s inevitable. 

Ive always been a bit of a softy for cases like these. I’ve worked in psychiatry offices assisting with digital filing and listened to the staff speak about traumas similar to this one, but Gluskin’s specific case repulsed and saddened me. How did it go on for so long? I strongly feel that if these victims were shown just a hint of love instead of violence, maltreatment and neglect that they would turn out relatively different. Perhaps even happy. 

I caught myself dozing off on these thoughts with his files still opened on my lap. Maybe a few minuets of shut eye won’t hurt, I thought. 

…


	7. ouch

I woke up suddenly. I think my own snoring arose me from my slumber. I have no idea how long I’ve been knocked out, but man did I feel significantly better mentally. The first thing that ran through my mind was that I had to find this guy. Eddie Gluskin, The Groom, whatever he was called, and just make sure he was safe. Even just alive. I think that I might’ve even dreamt about him. His trauma has officially become my burden for whatever reason. 

Hmm… what’s better than having my video recorder with me when I bust out of here? That’s right. Having a victim/patient. Maybe if he was as “normal” as he appeared to be, I could take him with me and he could vouch for everything that’s gone on here… not only that, but I could save and bring him somewhere he could be rehabilitated. Now I need to find him. I’m on a mission.

I shot up energized completely forgetting about my injuries. 

CRUNCH

My ankle snapped and I fell over, I let out a brief shriek and hit the floor with a loud thump. 

“Hello?…” a genuinely concerned voice echoed out.

Somebody from in the basement I’ve been sleeping next to heard me. Shit. I’ll have to go down and investigate. Maybe whoever it is will know what happened to Gluskin. Or even better: maybe they’ll know the way out of here. 

I limped over to the stairs, dragging my broken foot behind me and started slowly descending. Almost hopping down the stairwell. The further down I went, the darker and dustier it got. I looked around and saw an array of cobwebs all over the ceiling. Maybe I was hearing things? This area looks so old and uninhabitable. I continued hobbling through the room. I weaved in and out of desks and huge, old fashioned sewing machines. I jumped over a desk and landed hard on my foot.

CRACK-

I passed out cold.


	8. the groom

My eyes fluttered open but my vision was blurry. Am I moving? 

“Ah, Darling! You’re awake!” I dizzily looked up. Oh shit. It’s…him? My mouth was gaped open and I made a squeaking noise. Was he carrying me bridal style? 

“Eddie?” I asked softly. It was definitely him. Though something must’ve happened to him between now and when that photo of him was taken. He had intense lacerations all over the side of his face. One of his bright blue eyes were completely bloodshot. It looked like the side of his face went up in absolute flames. His skin was irritated and raw, and his lips were swollen and red. Yet he was still handsome in an obscure way. 

”Why… yes, Darling. It’s me.” He looked down at me and wildly grinned. He sounded like he had a bit of a lisp. Almost like there was cotton stuffed in his cheeks. Endearing in a way. I was in so much pain I just laid my head back on his heaving chest and let him carry me. I noticed a fowl stench creep up into my nostrils. An all too familiar stench. Great. The smell of dead bodies. I searched around the room and to my absolute horror, there were two severely mutilated corpses laying on top of one another. They had their chests cut open and what looked to be makeshift breasts sloppily stitched on. Their penises were cut clean off, leaving a bloody hole in place. I silently gagged. I almost passed out again but I couldn’t let myself. The danger level is too high.

Okay. What do I know about him? What can I do or say to keep myself from becoming one of these corpses? I searched my memory but my mind was clouded by the sights and smells I was passing by. I couldn’t just jump out of his arms. That would be suicide. My foot is in shambles, I can’t hop away from a serial killer. That’s fucking stupid. Be smart, Waylon. Be smart… 

My racing ideas were cut off when I subconsciously noticed Eddie singing to himself. 

“…I want a girl just like the girl that married dear old dad…” he giggled to himself between lines. 

“You have a beautiful voice, Eddie.” I blurted out. I broke a sweat when he froze mid step. “You… think I have a beautiful voice?” His voice cracked. I hatched an idea. 

“Oh, yes. You have a wonderful voice. I think you could even be famous.” I smiled shyly. Anxiety was coursing through my veins. He walked over and placed me on a table, facing him. He pressed his hands together in a gleeful, almost childish manner. He took a step foreword. “Darling, I know we just met mere minutes ago, but you’re already making me the happiest man alive.” He grabbed my hand and closed his over it. His hands were fucking giant and meaty. He had to be almost 7 feet tall. This isn’t going to be an easy situation to handle. “Can I ask your name, my love?” 

My what? My ‘LOVE’? Oh god, great. I knew he couldn’t have been all that normal. Well, aside the fact that he was a murderer; but then again, everybody here was. So who the hell am I to judge one out of a thousand others?

The best thing I could do is go along with it. I’m sure those other men who were mutilated back there put up quite a fight. Probably pissed Gluskin off and pushed him over the limit. Maybe if I play nice for long enough, he’ll let me go…

”Waylon. Waylon Park.” I lifted his hand up and pressed it onto my cheek gently. His eyes brightened up and he stuck his index finger out to caress my face. I was trying so hard to hide my mind numbing fear. 

“You know what, Waylon? Sweetheart? Maybe the procedure can wait until you’re in a more… stable condition.” He blushed. “I wouldn’t want you to bleed out and faint so quickly.” 

I’ve never seen such a big, brutish, muscular man blush like a teenage girl before. Wait… what procedure? I pondered. My mind flashed back to the bloodied, lifeless carcasses I saw while being carried here. Botched sex changes. I shivered. I felt sick all of a sudden. 

I need to keep this injury up for as long as possible until I hatch an idea to get myself out of here. All I need to do is butter him up until then. Maybe I can convince him I’m ‘fine’ the way I am.

“Come, my Darling. Let me help you. You look pale.” Eddie outstretched his buff arms for me to sit in and scooped me up like I was nothing. I held my tongue. I can’t believe I’m being toted around like a pet by a hulking, murderous, lovesick teddy bear.


	9. darling, please

"So, Eddie.. Dear." I sighed. I momentarily thought about my wife. Well, soon to be ex wife. We've been having our issues as of lately and were in the middle of a mutual divorce; but nothing bad enough for me to move on so quickly from her to a violent, mentally ill, powerhouse serial killer. At least I thought so. 

"What are your plans exactly? You know, For me? For us?"

He took a deep, slow breath and turned his gaze toward me; 

"Well, Darling; I was originally going to move foreword with your reassignment procedure first, followed by our marriage. Then we would consummate and I would impregnate you, of course. God, how beautiful our children will be... unfortunately for us though, I can’t continue with your procedure until you’re physically capable enough to recover. I’m sorry, Darling. I know you must be as excited and eager as I am to consummate our marriage. Until then, I will be the best fiancé I can possibly be.” He dunked his head down and placed a rough kiss on my forehead. His lips were dry, and he's obviously never kissed a living thing in his life, but it was a sweet gesture. He seemed genuinely kind, besides of course his desire to remove my dick and balls with a dull butcher knife.

Wait, did I just blush? Is my face warm? What the hell? I think this place is really starting to get to me. I can’t believe I was just flustered by a hulking murderer placing a nasty kiss on my forehead. Yet, I find myself intrigued. I kind of want to see more of his soft side.

“Thank you, Eddie. I know you’ll take good care of me.” I craned my neck up and quickly kissed the bottom of his stubbly chin. His face and body stiffened. I thought maybe I made the wrong move, until a pleased smile spread across his face, his cheeks pushed up into his eyes making him squint. For some odd reason I feel the urge to squish his cheeks. He looked kind of adorable when he was smiling so brightly. It made me smile too.

His icy eyes sparkled and he begun to hum to himself once again the same song from earlier. We approached his quarters; a dinky, dusty room with one very small bed, a dim lamp, canvases and fabric strewn all over the place, and a little flower pot with a bright, red rose growing in it. The pot looked hand painted. Gluskin probably did it himself. Shockingly enough, there was absolutely no gore, organs or specks of blood to be found in the room. It was completely tidy and in a way almost, dare I say it, comfortable. 

“This is where we will be staying together, my love.” Eddie carried me over to the pathetically tiny sized bed and gently placed me on top. He wandered over to a small desk where he looked to have gauze, first aid, scalpels, and what appeared to be a self piercing kit for some reason. I pushed myself back on the bed and a wave of anxiety overtook me. What the fuck is he planning on doing with that supplies? I asked myself. 

He swiftly turned around, grinning, with a rag in one hand and bandages in the other. His smile quickly faded when he saw how anxious I appeared. He softly but hurriedly sat on the foot of the bed, making it creak obnoxiously. 

“Oh God, Darling, I’m so sorry if I frightened you. Please, please forgive me. Have I been vulgar with you? Please, I've been trying so hard to work on my approach. I’m begging you not to leave me…” He started to tear up. His eyebrows arched making him look almost angry if it weren’t for the teardrops falling down his cheeks. He winced when one hit his open sores. 

I felt a wave of sadness wash over me all of a sudden. This poor man. I feel like I just want to make him feel appreciated at this point. “Eddie. No. It’s okay. I-I’m alright. You’ve been wonderful to me. Just… what are you doing with those?” I pointed shakily to the products in his hands. “Oh!” He responded with a strange and sudden delight.

Eddie reached out and using his monstrously beefy hand, took my calf and lifted it, placing it on a small, shitty, travel pillow. He glanced up at me, asking for my approval and I nodded at him without hesitation. How else was my foot gonna get better? He may not be too good at sex changes, but how hard is it to fuck up bandaging up a leg? 

Eddie took out a pair of scissors he had tucked in his belt loop and cut away the muddy and blood stained bottom of my pant leg, tossing the fabric onto the floor. “Now this May hurt, Darling. I just need you to try and take some deep breaths and relax…” he caressed my shin with his finger and traced all the way down to my ankle, lifting it. I grasped the sheets and closed my eyes, preparing for some hefty pain. He firmly wiped the dried blood off and my wounds on my broken foot with the rag, which happened to be covered in rubbing alcohol. The pain was indescribable. Tears were rolling down my face but I tried not to scream or make any noises, as I didn’t want to piss him off or alarm him. I opened one eye and glanced down; he looked so concerned and concentrated. Does he really care? I can’t tell. 

He then took the wrapping out from behind him. It just looked like old, slightly used ace bandages, but that’s probably the best he could do in a place like this. He swiftly wrapped my foot up all the way to my mid shin. He placed my leg back down on the pillow and looked up at me with a pleading look, almost like he was asking for reassurance that he did a good job. Although I was in throbbing pain, I shot him a weak thumbs up and he smiled, flashing his peculiarly white, straight teeth. He stood up and turned to stare at the flower pot for a moment. 

He then suddenly, with his back to me, removed his vest and ripped his shirt off, followed by him unbuttoning his dress slacks. Leaving him with boxers and a wifebeater tank. He hung them up on a rusty wire hanger, suspended in a small closet. There was only one other shirt inside. He’s got a nice body. So muscular. Hold on, why the hell is he getting nude? 

“I hope you don’t mind me sleeping next to you tonight, Darling. I don’t have anywhere else to rest.” He scooped me up like a bulldozer and shifted me over, sliding onto the bed right next to me. His weight made the bed sink to the right side, which made me slide over, my back to him. He pulled me into his tight grip and let out the happiest sigh I’ve ever heard a man make. I had nowhere to go. I was literally trapped in his arms, his biceps were crushing my chest to bits. The weirdest part about it? Well, I don’t really mind that much. In fact I kind of like it. I almost feel protected. 

If I thought I would be developing any sort of awkward, out of character fondness for a patient here, I probably wouldn’t have taken the job. Maybe when I wake up I can think of an escape plan.


	10. bath time

I jerked awake with a burning pain all over my body. I felt hot, like I was running a fever or overheating. My vision was blurry, when I opened my eyes everything was just a conglomeration of shadows and blobs. I saw a pale figure approach me and get close to my face. It was Eddie. 

“Sweetheart? Oh god, you look so sick. Are you okay?” He placed his large hands on my cheeks and brought my face closer to his. “You’re burning up! Let’s remove this immediately.” He tugged at my uniform.

I felt too weak and confused to protest, I kept wobbling back and forth, I felt sweat dripping down my forehead and chest. He unbuttoned my uniform and tossed my disgustingly filthy shirt into a dusty corner. His expression changed quickly from concern to surprise. Almost disgusted in a way.  
“I need to clean you right away, Waylon.” He moved his arms under my armpits and hoisted me effortlessly, scooping me up like a fucking baby. One hand was on the back of my neck and his other was under my ass, lifting me. I was completely limp in his arms, I wasn’t even comprehending what was going on, but the second my eyes opened again I was in what looked to be a long, empty hallway filled with dirty porcelain baths. Before I knew it he was pulling off my pants and I was laying in a freezing cold tub. 

“E-Eddie… I can’t… I-I feel like I’m dying.” I squeaked out, almost whispering. I looked down at my body and my vision momentarily cleared; I was covered in a swelling, bright red rash. My skin was peeling off. Festering in my blood, piss, sweat, vomit, and shit stained uniform for days with no shower caused me to get what looked like a mass skin infection. I almost threw up at the sight alone. 

He popped a ridiculously large pill into my mouth and I gagged swallowing it. I don’t even know what it is, it might kill me, but at this moment in time I’m in so much discomfort. I kind of hoped it would.  
“If I don’t help you, you’re going to go into shock. I can’t have my favorite fiancé dying in such a distasteful manner.” He shook his head disapprovingly and started the bath water. It was steaming right off the bat. My skin burned and itched. He held up a yellow bar of soap that smelled medicated and begun to frantically drag it all over my body, starting at my neck, leaving a film of white bubbles all over me. He stopped at my lower stomach and removed his black gloves. He drug his beefy fingers all over me, rubbing the soap in. I couldn’t tell if the burning was being gradually eased, or if my torso was going completely numb from all my skin peeling off. He rubbed the soap in all the way to my back, and rinsed me with warm water. I was falling asleep. My eyesight went black.

“Waylon? It’s dangerous to fall asleep in a bath.” He splashed me playfully. I tore my eyes open. He was rubbing the soap down my bare legs, which were also covered in what looked to be hives. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my word and take good care of you.” His tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth slightly in concentration.  
He looked so precious and caring. 

I’m not sure if I’m going crazy from being stuck here, or maybe I’m just tired and delusional from this rash. I was thinking about how he was the only one to show me any sort of genuine kindness or care since I got here. How he deserves just as much happiness as I did. I sat up, completely unashamed from being naked and vulnerable, and with his mitts still on my thighs, I placed my hands on either side of his chiseled face, and planted a good 5 second kiss on his lips. My eyes were closed, but when I opened them, his were bulged out of his skull. He was just staring at me, he even dropped the soap onto the floor and it slid away. A single tear immediately fell from his gnarly, bloodshot eye, and his mouth slightly opened. I was kind of scared.

“Waylon…” He murmured. “Nobody has ever… been so gentle with me before.” He sniffled. More tears fell from his eyes. His voice was beginning to shake. He cleared his throat. 

“Every time I try to be nice, every time I try to express my feelings, I’m left behind, called insane or fought against. Or worse… I can’t help my feelings. I can’t help my outbursts. I can’t help scaring people. It’s not my fault I’m fucked up. Ever since I was a young child… I… dealt with… my father, he…-“ Eddie slapped his beet red face into his hands and loudly sobbed, his body started shaking. He was breaking down. Although we didn’t have much of an in depth conversation, this was the first time I heard him curse since we met.

“I know, Eddie. You don’t have to talk about it. I’m here for you now, and I’m not gonna hurt you.” I choked out. I placed a wet hand on his neck and rubbed gently with my thumb. I felt a tear roll down my cheek.

“Thank you for not leaving me. I’m so f-fucking scared all the time. Waylon, Darling; don’t leave me, please?” He begged, his voice still shaking and cracking. 

“Eddie. I’m going to get you out of this place. I will not leave you alone.” I put on my best confident expression and voice, even though I was still quiet and felt weak. I completely forgot about my physical pain at this moment. All I cared about right now is making him feel better. I want to help him escape his trauma. No matter what it takes. Nobody deserves this sort of life. It’s animalistic. Inhuman.

Eddie bit his lip; ”I'm sorry if I’m moving too quickly for you. I’ve just become so, well, attached. I think you’re my first friend here. The first person to not beat or…r-rape me.” l shuddered. I can’t believe he’s been so brutalized his entire life. He’s known nothing else but abuse in every way; physical, sexual, mental, emotional, verbal. Every last bit. 

“Eddie, you already have a little place in my heart. I’ll make sure nothing like that ever happens to you again.” He expressed a frail yet relieved smile at my response. 

He placed his hand back on my thigh and squeezed. He sighed, wiped his face and turned his gaze into my eyes. His eyes were heavily glazed over and red. Looking into them alone made my eyes sting and water.

He sniffled sadly and rubbed my thigh softly, staring intensely at it.  
His expression quickly changed, “You’re blushing.” He smirked. I didn’t even realize it until he pointed it out.  
“Do you like how that feels, my love?” He raised his mutilated eyebrow and squeezed again, harder; his hand moving up the inside of my thigh. He was staring at me with half-shut bedroom eyes, biting his lip. I laughed, embarrassed and covered my face with my hands, trying to cross my legs. He chuckled and scanned me up and down. 

“All of a sudden you’re shy… that’s okay, Darling. Let’s get you dried off. I’ll be right back.” He got up and hurried off to his bedroom to get a towel. I sunk under the bath water and rinsed the rest of the soap off.

Shit. How is this possible? Am I actually developing feelings for Eddie? 

I arose from the tub and clasped my hands over my junk. If I randomly get hard, that’s the last thing I want him to see. 

Eddie’s footsteps echoed down the hallway-like room. He waved his fingers at me and smiled. 

“Allow me to dry you off, my dear.” He held his hand out for me to take and led me out, swiftly wrapping the raggedy towel around my waist for me. I shakily took a step foreword, almost slipping and falling.

“No, no, no. I’m supposed to be keeping you safe.” He bent down and picked me up, carrying me bridal style and placing me on the dinky bed in a sitting position. He begun to fish around in the small closet.

“I’m sorry in advance, Waylon. I know I probably don’t have anything in your style, and it’s customary to not see your bride in their wedding dress before the big day… but…” 

He had a mildly prideful look on his face and held up a delicate, entirely hand sewn, lacy, white wedding dress. It was definitely big enough to fit me, especially considering i haven’t eaten in a week and all of this running for my life business probably made me drop 20 lbs. I just wish I had some normal clothes. Then again, beggars can’t be choosers I suppose. 

“Do you like it, Darling?” His eyes had a pleading glaze to them. They were leering into my soul. 

“It’s beautiful.” I was almost speechless. It was beautiful, just obviously not my cup of tea. 

“Oh, good! Let’s see how it looks!” He placed the dress carefully on the bed and clapped his hands like a gleeful child. I mentally braced myself for my first time wearing a dress. Kind of embarrassing. 

Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.


	11. kisskiss

I stood up, practically being swallowed by the wedding dress. It was falling off of my freckled shoulders and it was just a little too short for me, stopping in the middle of my shins. Eddie was staring at me from his seat, his hand placed on his cheek and a soft blush across his face. It made my face turn red to see someone admire me so closely. Nobody has ever looked at me in such a way. 

“Uh, Eddie?” I nervously laughed. “Whatcha lookin’ at?” I took a step towards him and looked down. He was wearing a loose, patchy dress shirt and black dress pants with rips on them, they were just a tad bit too tight; but I could tell he worked hard on tailoring them. 

“Oh! Uh, me, Darling? Nothing. I just- you look so… beautiful.” He stood up and sauntered towards me, trying to look confident, despite the fact that I could clearly see him nervously twitching. He laid a hand on my hip and pulled me closely, kissing my cheek with his chapped lips. “How are you feeling, my love?” He placed his other hand on my stomach, where most of the pain and itchiness from my rash was emitted from. It stung a little, but it was significantly less painful. The pill from earlier must’ve been an antibiotic or pain medication. 

“I’m okay, Eddie. Just kind of- well it just stings a little.” I tapped his hand signaling for it to move off of me and he quickly jerked his hand away.  
“I’m so sorry, Waylon! Please, lay down.” He led me to the bed which was just a few steps away from where we were standing. I collapsed onto it and it loudly creaked. Eddie sat next to me and twiddled his thumbs anxiously, avoiding eye contact, as if he was thinking of his next move. It was silent. Uncomfortably silent. I decided to sit up and say something;

”You know Eddie, we should really work on your kissing techniques.” I blurted out. Fuck. I hope he didn’t take that the wrong way. It was my best attempt at flirting. 

His bright eyes widened in sudden shock and he licked his cracked lips.  
“I’m sorry, Darling. I just-I’ve never really kissed anybody before… not by choice, anyway.” He whispered the last bit. I sighed and placed my hand on the back of his thick neck. He stiffened and turned his head towards me. “Waylon? I-,“ I didn’t let him finish. I pulled him in for a kiss; this time I wanted him to feel that I really did care about him. I started gently and softly, my eyelids fluttered open for a brief moment. His eyes were closed and his brows were arched in a pleading expression. Tears were forming in the corner of his eyes. A weak moan escaped his mouth. I couldn’t help but smile, I even chuckled a little bit. I pulled away. He looked dazed when he finally opened his eyes. 

“That was good. We should keep on practicing though.” I laughed. He fixed his slicked back hair with his fingers and smiled crookedly. I could tell he was speechless and didn’t know how to respond. This was the most intimate and tender moment he's ever had with another human being before. He’s almost like a child in a grown man’s body. “Eddie, can I try something?” I scooted closer, between his legs, which were long, and spread on the bed. I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he gulped insecurely. He tried to casually clear his throat. 

“O-of course you can, m-my dear.” He stuttered out. I examined his face very closely: the corners of his mouth were slightly twitching, his bloodshot eyes were scanning the room and his forehead was gleaming with sweat. I reached my hand out and placed it on Eddie’s chest. His heart was pounding and immediately quickened up pace the second my hand touched him.  
“Darling, wait. Before we continue with anything…” he trailed off. I looked up at his face. He was squinting his eyes, thinking of how to phrase his words. “The doctors told me after I was… forced into submission… the filthy fucking machines… they said; you’ll never find a wife with a face like that. You’re a-a goddamn monster. Eddie Gluskin, you’re a monster.” His lip quivered sadly. I looked into his eyes with concern. “How are you-you just-You don’t think I’m… hideous?” His voice cracked and his hand moved to cover the fucked up, blistered side of his face. I completely forgot about it even being there. I was distracted by his charm the entire time we’ve been together. 

“Are you kidding me? No, I don’t find you hideous. Fuck those doctors. Fuck everybody here.” That came out harsher sounding than I expected. I moved my hand up to his hand and took it off of his cheek. “Eddie. I may not know you too well yet, but I can tell you’ve been through Hell. You deserve someone to care for you.” I trailed off, loosing my train of thought. I couldn’t stop staring at him.

“So you don’t mind my... deformity?” His voice cracked. 

“I couldn’t care less about it. I think you’re handsome regardless.” I brushed my hand on his cheek and his eyes squinted as small tears formed at the corners. His lesions were significantly drier than I thought they would be. It felt like a series of thick, cracked scabs and smooth scars. Weird texture. He winced at my touch but clasped his hand over mine. He inhaled deeply. He's so insecure. I’ll fix that.

“Okay. Yes. I’ll do whatever you want me to. I trust you.” He smiled meekly and kissed the palm of my hand, moving it back down onto his lap.  
“Good. I promise we’ll take this slow.” I squeezed his muscular upper thigh and he let out a sharp breath. “Mmm…” he uttered, inadvertently. I smirked. 

This’ll be interesting.


	12. i love you

We sat on the tiny bed together, sloppily making out for what seemed to be the better part of a half hour. He was getting better at it and more comfortable with himself, which made me happy as time stretched on. Every once and a while he’d let out a little whimper and it would make me laugh; I just thought it was endearing. I broke the kiss and a string of saliva connected our mouths and dripped onto the dress I was still wearing. He smiled sheepishly and bit his lip;  
“Am I getting any better?” 

“You’re way better than you were earlier. Wanna try something else?” I intertwined my fingers with his flirtatiously. I was a 6’1, averagely fit man; and yet compared to him I looked dainty and fragile. He was hulking and could probably tear me limb from limb with a single try if he wanted to. My hand was practically swallowed up by his the second he closed his fingers around mine. I couldn’t believe that I was so genuinely attracted to him. It felt kind of nice to know that if I am stuck here for the rest of my life, at least somebody will be here to protect and care about me to a certain extent. 

“Anything, Darling.” 

“Perfect.”

Guess that was my cue to be a whore. 

I smirked and inched myself onto his lap, leaning foreword and planting soft kisses on his neck while dragging my fingers along the side of his torso. Although he was really muscular and beefy, I could feel his flared ribcage through his thin shirt. I started to unbutton it from the top and he stiffened, taking a sharp inhale. I placed my hand on his chest to reassure him that I wasn’t going to hurt him. 

“I promise I’ll stop whenever you ask me to.” I kissed his collarbone and felt him exhale, relaxing a little. He nodded.

When we slept the other night it was too dark to really get a good look at his physique. He was in terrific shape, though his body was littered with fresh and old scars and bite marks. There was body hair everywhere which helped to cover some disfigurement. He had a huge, red and purple bruise on his ribcage. It looked as if he’d been repeatedly kicked with a cleat the day before, and he also had a scar running through his right nipple. The scars from the morphogenic engine’s tubes littered his chest. He had a huge, pink indentation between his pecs. I glanced down at his forearms; they were covered in pale, faded scars from what I assumed may have been instances of self harm during his youth. I picked up his arms by his wrists and kissed him all the way up to his shoulders. He shuddered but had a warm smile on his face. It makes me so fucking sad to know he hates himself so much.  
“You’re so handsome.” I whispered, placing my arms around his neck and bringing him closer so I could leave hickeys on him. I scooted even closer to his body and this time I sat on his crotch. Oh, shit. He was rock hard… and huge.

He put his hands on my hipbones and moaned as I was sucking on his neck. I didn’t really expect such a vocal reaction, but then again, it said in his files that he’s been in his facility for about 10 years, and is probably completely touch starved. At least in a consensual sense.

Without even realizing at first what my body was doing, I was pushing my weight down on his lap and grinding on him. His breathing picked up and turned into light panting. I reached my hand down and unzipped his dress pants; his veiny, rock solid dick instantly popped out. Fuck, he wasn’t even wearing boxers underneath. 

It was laying on his stomach and I twirled my fingers around the head, spreading around the precum that was already spurting out. His mouth gaped open slightly and he started whimpering and pushing his hips up, begging for more stimulation. I laughed and squeezed the head slightly. 

“Fuck… w-what’s funny?” He grunted out. Eddie slapped his veiny hand over his mouth and closed his eyes, trying to stay quiet. I could tell he’s probably never even touched himself. 

“I like it when you make noise.” I grinned and started tracing my fingernail up his shaft. He moaned and laid back all the way on the bed, placing both his bruised hands on his face in embarrassment. His biceps were flexed as as he pushed on his face. I pressed my right hand on the center his chest so he couldn’t get up as easy and went to town on his cock, pumping my hands up and down, faster then I’ve ever done it before even to myself. His arms flung to his sides and he gripped the sheets of the bed, groaning like an animal. His chest begun to heave up and down faster.

“Fuck, Waylon, I f-feel w-weird…” he placed a hand on his lower stomach. I knew what that meant. I smiled crudely and released his member, it twitched and stood straight up.

“I don’t want you to cum yet.” He whimpered loudly. I showed him my hand which was coated in a layer of his sticky precum. “What a messy boy. Let me help you take care of this.”  
I grabbed the back of his head and shoved two fingers in his mouth while using my other hand to push his erect cock up onto his stomach so he could feel how wet it was. He gagged at first but started sucking on them. He moaned, sending vibrations up my hand. I pulled my fingers out of his mouth, which were covered in saliva and traced his jawline with them. There were pools of thick drool dripping from his chin, down his chest and piling on his hairy stomach. He looked like he was experiencing the best high of his life. I scooped up the drool from his belly with my two fingers and started rubbing in circular motions on his nipples, which were progressively getting more erect. He threw his head back and placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. 

“Darling, I’ve never felt this way b-before.” His voice cracked and he reached a shaky hand down to touch himself while I was working his nipples. I grabbed his wrist tightly and pinned it to his side, making him whine loudly. I laughed and pinched his scarred nipple, earning a low, raspy moan. I trailed my hand down his body and jabbed my fingers in Eddie’s mouth, demanding he coat them with his spit again. I took them out and started making scissor motions with them, observing all the saliva dripping down my hand.

“Do you trust that I’m not gonna hurt you, baby?” I leaned foreword and kissed the head of his cock lovingly. He shivered and made a whiny noise. 

“God, yes. Do whatever you want, Darling, please.” He begged and bit his swollen bottom lip. I reached down and cupped his ass, spreading it. His slimy saliva still lingered on my fingers. 

“Ready?” I asked, teasing his entrance with my middle finger. His eyes fluttered back and he nodded his head, his cock spasmed once again from the neglect I’ve been putting it through. I easily slipped a finger in and left it there for a moment, getting him used to the feeling. 

“Oh, FUCK.” He groaned. He placed his hands on his face and he turned bright crimson. “I-I’m sorry, my love. I’m not trying to be vulgar. I jus- oh, God.” I slipped another finger inside and started pumping my digits in and out. He gasped and started breathing quickly. I moved my other hand up to his face and guided his hands off. I know he’s insecure, but I wanted to see his reaction to what I was doing to his body. Besides, the scarring on his face made him appear more ruggedly handsome to me. His eyes were completely rolled into the back of his skull, and his mouth was pried open, tongue laying out onto his face. I traced my finger in circles on the head of his dick. 

“You want me to show your cock some attention, Eddie?” I spat a glob of slobber on his aching dick and started to rub the tip a little harder. He choked on drool in response.

“I’m sorry, I can’t quite understand you.” I loosened the grip my fingertips had on his tip and tapped them rhythmically, playing with his “You want me to show that fucking cock some attention? Hm, Darling?” I said mockingly.

“F-fuck, Waylon, please. I need this…” he moaned loudly again, it almost sounded like he was crying. His dick twitched again.

“That’s right. I’ll take care of you, Eddie.” 

My hand was absolutely covered in spit and precum, which made the sound of me aggressively jerking him off even more arousing. One hand was pumping his slippery cock, the other was fingering him, and with my mouth I was sucking on his upper thighs, leaving marks. He went completely silent except for occasional, sharp labored breaths; when I looked up his back was arched, his fingers were spread, his eyes were completely engulfed in the back of his head, and he had snot, tears and drool dripping from his face. I kept going. In fact I picked up the pace, quickly slipping a third finger inside of him. He gasped and made a noise which almost sounded like he was crying. 

“I think I’m gonna- Ohh fuck, God, Waylon, I can’t-“ He let out what I could best describe as a raspy whimper and shot his load up into the air, it landed all over his legs, stomach, cock, and my hand. There was so fucking much. I overstimulated him for a few seconds, but the tears running down his face along with the fact that he stopped audibly breathing made me realize he’d had enough. I wiggled my fingers around inside him for a moment making his muscular body jerk before taking them out. 

He possibly had the cutest and hottest reaction I could’ve ever imagined. 

“Eddie?” His eyes were closed and his body was quivering. His stomach was heaving up and down. He sniffled and limply wiped the liquids leaking from his face with his arm, his eyes still closed.

He slurred softly;

”Do you love me?” 

My eyes bulged open. I don’t know what to say. Do I find him attractive? Hell yeah. Would I do this again? Definitely. Do I like him? Yes. Do I want to take him away from this place? Of course. Do I love him?…

“W-Waylon?” He stuttered out meekly, still laying still with his eyes shut. I was thinking of my response. Looking at him, I never would have thought he would be so emotional and sensitive. I’m glad I'm finding that out now, though.

”Yes. I do.” I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. His eyes shot open and his pupils rested on me. He smiled contently. It warmed and broke my heart. I don’t think anybody has ever told him that before. “I love you too, Darling.” He grabbed my arm suddenly and pulled me beside him, hugging me tightly. I felt his still warm cum splatter against the dress I was wearing and his cock twitch against my stomach. Kind of gross, but I didn’t really mind considering I just had my hand in his asshole anyways. 

I forgot that we were still stuck in Mount Massive until this point. Weirdly enough, I started thinking about me and Eddie’s future... 

It’s settled, starting tomorrow I’m getting us both out of this place.


	13. go time

“Waylon, Darling? What’s our plan again?” Eddie yawned and blinked sleepy tears away from his eyes, politely confused. It was about 3AM, and I was packing up an old, dirty duffle bag with some of Eddie’s sewing supplies and his documents; which I happened to pick up from the floor of another room while wandering around last night. I was woken up from dead sleep from what I assumed was Eddie having a night terror and I couldn’t doze off again. I thought maybe the documents could be useful for future, uh, therapeutic endeavors. 

“Eddie, sweetheart… we’re getting the fresh hell out of this place. I’m gonna make sure that our future is set in a safe environment.” I nodded to myself and zipped up the bag, putting it around my shoulder. I straightened out the dress I was still wearing. I’d forgotten how embarrassed I was to be wearing it in the first place. It kind of grew on me. 

“Our future?” He bit his lip gleefully and and took a deep inhale, shrugging his unbuttoned dress shirt up onto his broad shoulders and trying to play it cool. He looked down and noticed his cock was still out and gasped, shamefully, tucking it back in and buttoning his pants up shakily. It made me laugh a little, his one somewhat pale cheek turned pink. 

He walked over to the open closet in the back of the room. “Should I bring my other shirt?” He cleared his throat and held up a raggedy, bloodstained, long sleeved shirt; the only other item of clothing he’s had besides the one shitty prisoner uniform everybody admitted here is forced to wear. I stared at it, trying not to make a disgusted expression. It just looked so awful and filthy. I raised my eyebrows and clenched my teeth. 

“Uh, no, Bubs. It’s okay, I’ll buy you all the clothing you’ll need once we escape.” I gestured with my hand for him to leave it behind. He grinned excitedly and sauntered over to me, grabbing my arm softly. “I’m going to make you so happy, my dear. I can’t wait to fill the emptiness inside of you with my love.” He slurred and kissed my hand, then opening the creaky entrance to his little bedroom, waiting for me to exit. I limped over, still suffering from my broken foot. All of a sudden I felt a pair of huge arms scoop me up from behind the second I stepped out of the door frame.

“You’re still in pain, Darling. Don’t think I’ll let you harm yourself any further.” He carried me bridal style once again and shut the door behind him with his foot. He turned to face the wooden door of his bedroom, that had “Groom’s Room” painted on it sloppily in white, along with roses around the border; he froze for a moment, staring at it blankly.  
“Wait.” He uttered, setting me down and walking back inside. A minuet later he emerged holding a bright red rose. The one he’s been taking care of. He slipped it in the duffel bag, lovingly. He then picked me up and spun around, speed-walking through the rest of his domain, past the rotting bodies and unfinished garments and running up the stairs, almost tripping with me in his arms on the way up. It was like he was trying to completely forget everything he’s ever done in here. He turned around silently once again to face the entrance of the basement of which he’s been living in for so long. I’m assuming he was mentally saying his goodbyes to the sad, dark, lonely life he’s been enduring for over ten years. Hopefully preparing himself for a new and happier experience.

“It’ll be okay, Eddie. Life is only going to get better from here.” I traced my index finger up his forearm tenderly. “We need to get far away from this facility. Do you know the way out?” I looked up. His face was scrunched, like he was thinking hard about something. The blistery skin cracked as he changed his facial expressions. God, I can’t wait to slather this guy in Neosporin. He huffed and kicked down a locked door with one drive of his foot. Holy shit, am I glad he likes me. This could’ve gone so much worse. 

“Oh SHIT. Gramps, we gotta get away from here!” 

“Shut the fuck up, boy. Now, run.” 

“The Groom, THE GROOM IS COMING!”

Dennis screamed in the distance and his clumsy, rapid footsteps were almost immediately followed by the sound of glass shattering and a faded “thump”.  
I cringed. I didn’t want to think about what he did, and for no reason at this point; but I knew he sailed right through a window. There was complete silence that followed the crash. I looked up at Eddie worriedly with glazed eyes. 

“It was his time, Darling. Don’t you worry.” He tried to reassure me, but did a relatively shitty job at making me feel less awful. I sighed, sadly. Despite his actions days prior, Dennis was a decently nice man. I wasn’t too close with him but I know he just wanted to be treated normally, but he wasn’t. Which caused him to lash out. That’s why everybody here lashes out. If you treat a person like an inhuman monster, they’ll eventually become that monster in time. Unfortunately, every single patient here has been treated like some sort of subhuman being, a bunch of lab rats undeserving of rights and happiness. The worst part? Nobody is mourning any of them. I can’t wait to get out of Mount Massive and fuck Murkoff over for good. 

My contemplation was suspended by the feeling of freezing wind hitting my face. I could barely see, but I knew we were trotting through the pitch black courtyard. 

Whoa, we’re out of the Vocational Block already? Did I zone out or something? 

I glanced to my shoulder and down onto my lap. I lost the bag with Eddie’s sewing supplies and rose in it. I feel so fucking bad. I don’t even remember it falling. 

My eyes were stinging and watering, it had to be at least 30 degrees Fahrenheit outside at this point. I could hear Eddie’s teeth chattering in his skull, and his fingertips were so cold I could feel them through my dress. I leaned my head on his heaving chest and listened to his heartbeat gradually increase. “Where are we going?” I asked, almost whispering. 

“The men’s ward, my angel. I believe there’s a way out through there.” He determinedly sped up, the grass crunching as he trotted along. Nobody alive was outside. I was scared we were going to get frostbite or something. 

My mind begun to wander again. The men’s ward is so fucking dangerous. That’s where Walker and Manera are roaming around. Two motherfuckers who almost killed me, one of the two tried to eat me. On top of that I can’t even walk, even if Eddie would let me, I physically wouldn’t be able to. How is he going to fight off all these variants with me in his arms? What if he has an episode in there and can’t think straight? We don’t even have any weapons or protection or anything. We’re going to die.


	14. fuck you andrew

Eddie bulldozed through the backdoors of the building, throwing them both open. The air was unusually thick and hot compared to every other structure, but it felt good to be engulfed in warmth in the moment. Eddie shivered violently due to the sudden change of temperature. He looked around to make sure nobody was in sight, and set me down for a moment on the floor, bending down and placing a sturdy hand on my shoulder. 

“Let’s warm up, Darling.” He rubbed his hands together furiously and placed them on my cheeks. I smiled. My face was completely and utterly numb, but the gesture was sweet. I moved my face to kiss the palm of his hand. His lips turned upward into a coy smile. It was a tender moment for us both.

“Oh my God, it’s the man downstairs. Bad man, BAD MAN.” A voice shouted out. Before we could even make out the face of the figure running towards us, Eddie was being tackled to the ground by a slightly smaller, but well built inmate, covered in dry, crusting blood. The man had his hands wrapped around Eddie’s neck, and his face and ears begun to turn red. He head-butted Eddie, causing a loud crunch to echo through the hallway. Eddie’s eyes were fluttering shut and tears were streaming down the sides of his face.

”Y-you…filthy wh…whore…-” he choked out, grabbing at the man’s arms in an attempt to pull him off. The variant was determined to kill, and had a tight grip. I could see Eddie’s neck begin to bruise instantly and a vein in his forehead pop out. He started to gasp in an agonizingly slow manner. I struggled to get up and flung myself towards them, knocking the man off of Eddie. 

“Fuck off!” I stammered angrily.

He got up, stumbling “The Groom’s slut I see!” He laughed and yanked the loose dress off of me to my waist, pulling me to him and clawing at my chest, leaving painful scratch marks on me. He started to suck on my flesh that was stuck under his untrimmed nails with me still tight under his arm. God that’s repulsive. His nails dug deeper into my skin and I squirmed weakly in an attempt to get away.  
Eddie was gasping for air and gabbing at his throat desperately on his back, like a fish out of water.  
The man whipped around with me still in his grip and started dragging me away, biting and sucking on my neck. I was screaming at the top of my lungs. His arm tightened to shut me up.  
“You wanna be my new fuck pillow, pretty boy? Mm, silky…”  
he grabbed my crotch viciously and I squeaked in pain.

SHLICK

The unknown man let out a sharp breath and dropped to his knees, collapsing to the ground. A long, thin knife was sunk into the back of his neck. 

“Call my fiancé a slut and this is what you fucking get.” Eddie spat to the now lifeless corpse. He bent over and spitefully grabbed the knife out of the man’s neck before sinking it in three more times. I was in shock. My chest stung like hell. I felt so violated. Gluskin made his way over to me with a concerned expression plastered on his face. He went from raging to loving so quickly.  
“My love, are you alright?” He placed a hand on my scratches. I jerked back slightly. “Oh, god. My poor angel.” He cooed. He lifted my dress back onto me and picked me up once again, planting little kisses on my face. We started making our way through the ward. I looked at his neck. Bright red, and distinct bruising in the shape of that man’s long fingers.  
My poor infamous baby boy. 

“Eddie?” I tilted my head upwards. He looked down, raising his eyebrows. 

“Thank you for protecting me. Although… you do know you won’t be allowed to, like, murder people once we get out of Mount Massive, right, babe?” I asked politely. He laughed and kissed my forehead. He didn’t respond. I hope that didn’t go over his head. 

We walked in silence for a few minuets, other than the occasional sounds of screaming and fighting in the background, and Eddie singing his little tune. I noticed out of my peripheral vision that he’d glance down at me and stare every once and a while. It made me blush. I felt extremely faint after quarreling with that variant. I haven’t eaten anything for about a week, and the only source of drink I’ve had is collecting freezing, dirty rainwater in my hands and taking sips. I knew both me and Eddie were going to need to be admitted into a hospital after this. I don’t even want to think about how long it’s been since he’s eaten normal food, or any food for that matter. He was buff, but his ribcage jutted out, and every vein he had in his arms were visible to the eye. It was like he was entirely muscle and no fat.

We made a sharp turn down a flickering hallway and he began to run towards an elevator. 

“All of the exits on the first floor are sealed off. We’re going to have to find a way down from a window.” He said, calmly, while picking up his pace. I lifted my head up and strained my neck, looking behind his shoulder. There was a long limbed variant, speedily crawling on all fours like an ape towards us. He was trying to ignore it so it wouldn’t stress me out.  
How thoughtful, but now I’m thoroughly scared shitless. 

My breath got caught in my throat and Eddie slammed his fist into the elevator button. He turned around and kicked the charging variant in the face with his abnormally huge boot before backing into the elevator. 

“I’m trying to sssave you!” The ape-human hybrid hissed out and rubbed his head before the elevator shut in front of us. Eddie tapped the second floor button and huffed, catching his breath. 

“Save us?” 

“Save you. From me. I’m not sure if you could tell, Darling, but I am not very, ehem…well liked in this facility.” He flashed a goofy smile at me and pointed to his neck, which was now swollen and heavily bruised.

The elevator door creaked open and he stepped out into a pitch black hallway. He begun to tiptoe as silently as possible. A raspy groan emitted from further down the hall. My heart stopped for a moment, but Eddie continued towards it. 

“Oh my God.” I covered my mouth trying not to heave. Our eyes adjusted to the dim light; It was one of the scientists. I think his name was Andrew. He was one of the first sick fucks to “greet” me when I was strapped down to a chair against my will. By greet me, I mean practically molest me by jabbing his tongue in my ear.  
He was sitting upright against a wall. His intestines were strung out all over the floor and his torso was ripped open. There were flies walking all over his organs and what looked to be putrid vomit splattered all over the floor. Over his head, “Walrider’s Bitch” was written in blood. I can’t even begin to describe the smell. 

“Ah… Mr. Park. I can’t believe you’re still alive.” He whispered out. “…and you’ve befriended the desperate faggot?”  
He attempted a laugh but coughed, causing blood to spurt out of his stomach cavity. Eddie’s grip got tighter on me. I could tell he was getting pissed.  
“Me? I can’t believe you’re still alive. I mean my god, look at yourself.” I gagged. He crudely smirked. “I won’t be for much longer.” A tear fell from his eye.  
“I kinda deserve this.”

“We’re getting out of here. Now. Give us a way to exit and we won’t let you die unnamed.” I promised. It was an empty promise. Fuck this guy. 

He wheezed and pointed limply with his finger at his back pocket. “Keys. To the back doors, elevators, and front gates. Don’t die.” Eddie put me down and bent over, grabbing the keys from Andrew’s back pocket. “Thanks.” I mumbled out. Eddie stood there, fumbling with the keychain, staring at Andrew condescendingly, gritting his teeth. Andrew attempted to scoff, though it came out as more of a low gurgle. 

“Better get outta here, big guy. Before you get fucked again. Daddy might still be out th-“ before Andrew could finish mocking Eddie, he sunk his shoe into Andrew’s exposed intestines, sending blood pockets to burst all over the floor. He had a raging look on his face; tears were forming at the corners of his eyes, he was biting his lip and scrunching his nose up. Andrew’s eyes bulged open and dark blood begun to spill out of his mouth. A sharp, wheezy breath started to emit from his body. Probably the last of the oxygen in his lungs. He died with his eyes open. Eddie bent down and wrapped his meaty hands around Andrews limp neck and begun to pound his head into the wall behind him. 

“FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU-“ 

He had tears streaming down his face as the sound of Andrews skull crunching was filling the long hallway followed by the echo of his eyeballs hitting the floor with a revolting ‘splat’. I was disgusted and terrified.

”EDDIE, STOP.” I blurted out, grabbing his flexed shoulders. He loosened his grip immediately and turned around, crying.

“He’s dead. Eddie, he's dead.” I whined out, trying not to cry. He had wet blood all over his nice clothes and his hands. I really didn’t want him to carry me around anymore, but I would die if he didn’t. 

“I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you had to see me like that…” he trailed off, staring down at his hands, trembling. I used the skirt of my dress to shakily wipe the blood off of his lips. 

“It’s okay. He had it coming.” I leaned foreword and planted a reassuring kiss on his lips. He bit his lip so hard seconds prior that it was bleeding. I wiped my face and stuck my arms out, motioning for him to pick me up again. I snatched the keys from his fingers and we begun to walk once more. Eddie’s legs were shaking, and he kept stumbling into walls. 

We’re almost outta here. We can do this.


	15. bite me, bitch.

As we were making our way through the men’s ward, I was zoning out to the sound of Eddie’s heart rhythmically beating. It was so unusually fast, I almost thought he was going to pass out while walking. The only thing that snapped me out of my trance was a familiar sound that has traumatized me.

A buzzsaw.

I felt a lump form in my throat and I grabbed onto Eddie’s now filthy shirt. “Eddie. We need to go somewhere else. We can’t go towards that sound. We’ll die.” I stammered, anxiously. Eddie slowed down a bit, quieting his steps. There was an animalistic sniffing that came from the same place the saw was. 

“Mm, yes. My meat. My love. Come to me…” Frank groaned. He could smell me.

Eddie shushed me silently, pressing his finger against his lips and nodding at me. He placed me on a windowsill and motioned for me to stay. It was so dark in the hallway, he completely disappeared in the shadows. I bit my nails nervously. Eddie has nothing but his strength and a now dull knife. Frank has an electric saw and agility. It’s anybody's game. It was eerily quiet.

”Mr. Gluskin, you've got so much meat on you. Come to me. I’m starving.” Frank revved up his saw.

”You filthy, inhuman motherfucker!” Eddie growled and the sound of Frank slamming the wall followed. The lights shot on, temporarily blinding me. Frank was knocked into the light switch which was now stuck on. Frank laughed manically and pushed himself off of the wall, charging at Eddie. He sliced a chunk of his forearm off with his saw and caught it mid air, taking a gnarly bite out of it. Blood shot out of Eddie’s arm into the air, his tendons were on display for the world to see. He choked and howled in pain.

“Absolutely delectable. I need more.” The cannibal licked his lips and threw the slab of Eddie’s flesh onto the floor with a nauseating splat. I covered my mouth as to not make any sudden noises. I wanted to help, but I knew if Frank saw me, I would die quickly. I had no way of fighting back. 

“You’re fucking disgusting.” He cried out and clutched his arm.   
“What kind of goddamn sicko eats other human beings?” He stretched his bleeding arm out and grasped Frank’s skinny neck. Frank was sticking his slimy, bacteria filled tongue out, trying to taste Eddie’s hand. His face begun to turn purple. He was frantically swinging his saw around, cutting up Eddie’s torso and arm. He was wincing with every slash but tightening his grip, pressing him up against the wall and lifting him up. The veins in Eddie’s arms and hands started to pop out. Frank’s body went limp and he dropped the running saw. This was my time. 

I jumped off of the windowsill, hollering like a maniac and grabbed the saw from the floor, pushing the blades into franks stomach. I blanked. I forgot about all my injuries and the world around me. 

“DIE ALREADY YOU FUCKING FREAK.”   
I shouted, relentlessly pushing the saw into his gut. He started to split down the middle. His organs were spilling out and splashing onto the floor and onto me. Eddie was still gripping his neck, holding him up for me to go to town. 

“Yes, YES. Show him what you’re capable of, Darling! SHOW HIM.” He started drooling and his pupils dilated hungrily, looking at me.

I was loosing my fucking mind. I wasn’t thinking about anything except for making sure that Frank Manera was dead as dust. That he couldn’t ever have a taste of my flesh or anybody else’s.This is what you fucking get, you monster. Fuck you. 

Frank’s legs fell from his body, blood and organs were sliding out against the ground. There were two hearts that hit the floor. His spine was sticking out from the top half of his body. I was screaming at the top of my lungs.   
This was my first murder. Cold blooded murder. I was staring at the mess I made, breathing heavily. I felt like I was high or drunk. Red and white kept flashing before my eyes. Eddie was staring at me lustfully, clenching his jaw. He dropped the top half of Frank’s body, and it hit the ground with a sickening “splash”.   
I bent over and dry heaved, as I had nothing in my stomach to actually throw up anymore. 

“Fuck. I can’t b-believe I just…” 

Eddie pulled me away from the dismembered corpse, which still had gallons of blood spilling from it. He shielded my eyes.

“He will never hurt you again. Nobody will know what you did here. It’s okay.”   
He patted my head gently and lifted me up, grunting. I passed out before he could even fully wrap his arms around my body to carry me.


	16. …we what?

“Waylon? Waylon, wake up, sweetheart.” Eddie whispered into my ear. My eyelids stirred open. The tip of his flat nose was almost touching mine.  
He looked blurry to me, but I could tell by the look of his squinted eyes that he was smiling. Frank’s blood was dried, and crusting all over him, as well as on me too.

“It’s time.”

I was seeing double of everything. I sat up in his arms and swiftly looked around the room, my eyesight adjusted slowly. I suddenly felt painfully nauseous. I can’t believe I’m here right now.

We were in the front room of the asylum. The exit was a mere few yards in front of us. Eddie jingled the keys and placed them in my lap.

We made it. We fucking made it.


	17. discharged

My eyes started to uncontrollably tear up. I was sobbing. Eddie put me down so I could stand on my own. He patted my back excitedly. I hobbled over to the double doors, unlocking it with the skinny, silver key. The click and creak of it opening almost brought me to my knees. I flung it open.

Dead bodies and empty rifles were laying all over the ground. Helmets and flashlights were littered throughout the grass, and two giant running trucks with seemingly nobody inside of them were parked outside. We could hop in one and bust through the rickety front gates and be at the hospital within 20 minuets.  
I laughed hysterically while tears spilled down my face, clearing a path in the dry blood that was covering me, making it look like I was crying crimson. 

I turned around to face Eddie. He was on his knees, shaking. My smile faded instantaneously. 

“Eddie? What’s happening?” I limped over to him and yanked on his arm signaling him to get up. 

“I can’t…” he choked out. My heart sunk.   
I don’t want to leave him here.   
He’ll fucking die. He’ll kill himself. 

“You can’t what? Please. Eddie, please come with me. I can’t do this. I can’t fucking do this right now. We’re so close.” I grabbed his face aggressively with my hands and squeezed his cheeks, forcing him to look up at me. His mouth was strained into a depressing scowl and his face was twitching. 

“If I leave I’m going to hurt people. I-I don’t belong outside of here, Waylon. I’m fucked up. I can’t control myself. I’m a… I’m a bad person.”  
He cried out, hiccuping between pauses. He pushed my hands off of him.

“You deserve better than me. I’m a filthy fucking murderer. I’m soiled. I’ve been ruined. I-I’m a fucking whore. H-He said so. How can you even stand to fucking look at me?” He grasped his shoulders in an attempt to stop shaking, but just made it worse. He was struggling for air. It sounded like he was on the brink of an asthma attack. 

I placed my hands on his still swollen neck and stared directly into his face. 

“Eddie. I’m going to get you help. You have to believe me. You have to trust me. More importantly, you have to trust yourself. We’re going to be so much better outside of this place.”  
I pushed his chin up with my thumbs desperately trying to get him to listen to me. “If you don’t come with me, I’m sending people back here to get you out… and at that point I can’t promise I’ll be allowed to see you again. Please. I’m begging you right now.” I was weeping. 

He stuck his bottom lip out like a child and it was quivering. He sniffed loudly. 

“Eddie, I love you.” 

His head perked up and his eyebrows furrowed upwards. He took a deep breath and stood up. His hands were trembling and his fingers were jerking. He picked me up swiftly and held me to his chest, taking slow steps towards the exit. 

“I love you too.” He whispered, his voice shook and cracked. 

We got to the giant doorframe. The light from the sunrise was shining onto our faces. Eddie’s eyes looked almost transparent in the light. His tears were glistening. 

He picked up speed and ran to one of the running trucks, opening the door with his foot and tossing me inside of the driver’s seat. He got into the passengers side and looked at me, smiling weakly. 

“I never learned how to drive.” He tried to laugh, still teary eyed. He was still very distraught and scared. I smiled and wiped the wetness from his face. 

I put the vehicle in drive and slammed my still in tact foot against the gas. It accelerated to 50 mph extremely fast, and I steered, driving right through the closed gate. The windshield cracked, and I noticed a devilishly wide grin spread across my face and I looked over to the passenger’s seat to reassure Eddie that everything was going to be okay. He was out cold. The shock of being out of the asylum made him faint. 

I sped onto the road and immediately made my way to the nearest hospital. 

Everything is going to be okay.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waylon made it to the nearest hospital to Mount Massive and hobbled into the waiting room, his foot crunching underneath him, alerting the staff that Eddie was passed out in the truck outside and needed to be rolled in on a gurney. In a hurry, they were both taken to the ER and hooked up to a number of machines. Waylon explained the situation and was given a surplus of hospital food, and both him and Eddie were cleansed with sanitary wipes and given an array of shots to fight potential disease.

…

Four hours passed. Me and Eddie were in the same hospital room with IV’s attached to us. I informed the hospital staff about Mount Massive Asylum and the physical trauma me and Eddie went through. I told them about Eddie’s latex allergy and how his face appeared the way it did because of being forced into the morphogenic engine. They said they would treat his facial lacerations promptly and examine him while he was asleep. They found a pretty severe lung infection, slathered his face with antibacterial ointment and stitched his arm and the gashes on his body shut before he could bleed out anymore. They also gave us both pain medication through our IV’s and put a cast around my leg. 

I’ve been awake the entire time, staring at Eddie from across the room. He looked strangely peaceful. 

He jerked awake and knocked over the IV. “WAYLON? WHERE AM I? HELLO?”  
He woke up hyperventilating. He glanced down at his hand with the needle inside and had a frantic look on his face. A male nurse rushed in and slid through the door. 

“Sir? Please remain calm. We’re trying to maintain your lung infection right now.” He placed a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and guided him back down gently. He had an angry and confused expression. The nurse smiled and waved at me;   
”Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, Mr. Park.” He picked up the IV stand Eddie knocked over and walked out.

Eddie tilted his head up and looked at me sadly from across the room. “Where are we?” 

“We’re in a hospital, baby. They’re going to take care of us.” 

He glanced down at the hospital gown he was wearing and pulled up the thin white sheets to cover himself shyly;   
“Where are my clothes? I worked so hard on them. Why are they gone? What did they do to me? Did they…” He sat up and whispered. “Did they… molest us? Waylon, are we safe?”   
His eyes widened and darted around the room. 

“Eddie. It’s fine. You’re going to be fine. They didn’t molest us. They’re trying to nurse us back to health. You and I are in terrible condition.” I tried to comfort him. “I told them where we came from and they contacted the authorities. Mount Massive is going to be vacated immediately and everybody is going to be transferred.” I smiled.  
“Just try to relax.” He exhaled in response and mumbled something inaudible. 

I laid my head back down. Almost the second my head hit the pillow, Eddie’s obnoxious snoring erupted into the room. I snickered. 

I finally felt clean for the first time in a week. They cleaned us both with wipes and we’ll be allowed to shower after our IV’s are taken out. Eddie looked so handsome with all the dirt and blood cleaned from his face, and with the bright lights of the hospital room I could finally see his facial features clear as day. 

I finally felt ready to start a new life. Being in the asylum really opened my eyes to a new perspective, and being around Eddie helped me understand my bisexuality and embrace myself.   
I realized that my purpose is to help people, and I’m starting off that goal by shutting down Murkoff and giving Eddie a second chance at a decent life. 

If I can show one man that life isn’t only consistent of assault, pain, mental anguish and trauma, then that’s enough for me. 

and maybe being stuck in that asylum surrounded by violence, gore and brutality made my sanity whither away a little; but if so, I don’t want it back. Although I almost died on multiple occasions, I’ve never felt more alive then I do right now.


	19. aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the happy ending you’ve been waiting for.

Eddie and Waylon were discharged from the hospital a week and three days later with full bellies and their injuries tended to. The doctors gave them both contact information to a psychiatric office that was linked to the hospital, and they saw therapists accordingly. Eddie was officially diagnosed with PTSD and delusional disorder, and Waylon was diagnosed with depression and paranoia. Both men were given the appropriate medication, and after six months of rehabilitation in two separate institutions with solid credibility, Eddie and Waylon were reunited. Eddie’s grasp on reality was clearer, and he accepted his past and showed genuine regret for his crimes, and after serving a decade in Mount Massive Asylum, he was allowed freedom from captivity with occasional surveillance under the circumstances that he (obviously) commits no more violent crimes.

Waylon and his now ex-wife were getting along in a friendly manner, and after he was freed from the institute, he was allowed to see his two sons once again. Eddie moved into a new home with Waylon and quickly became attached to his sons, treating them like his own and showing them proper affection. They grew a quick fondness for him, and accepted their father’s relationship once getting to know Eddie better. Eddie spent his free time sewing suits for the two boys and practicing his cooking skills for Waylon, his then fiancé.

Eddie Gluskin pursued his dream profession as a local tailor, and Waylon went on to write a book describing the gritty, honest horrors he witnessed while inside of the asylum. Murkoff was in the process of being shut down thanks to Waylon Park, and all of the staff members who worked at Mount Massive were being put under arrest for a variety of reasons, including physical abuse, neglect, rape, and a significant amount more. Waylon’s camcorder was discovered within the deep bowels of the asylum, and the little amount of evidence filmed was more than enough to prove everything said in interviews and articles.

Eddie’s facial scars barely faded, but Waylon helped lessen his insecurities by showering him with reassurance and affection daily. Eddie’s ability to recognize his poor childhood and home life growing up almost completely changed his personality and violent tendencies. Although he still had occasional panic attacks, depressive episodes, flashbacks and mental breakdowns, he was stable enough to function in modern society due to him and Waylon’s healthy relationship, a plethora of medication and therapy, and Waylon/Lisa’s entire family being one big support system for him.

He also appeared on television with his partner, Waylon Park, to speak about Mount Massive in interviews and explain life within the confines of the asylum, which earned the couple credibility and respect among America, along with receiving donations upon donations. Millions of which were donated to multiple charities to fund the rehabilitation of children who suffered abuse and neglect. 

The variants left behind in the asylum were transferred to a number of separate medical hospitals all across the state, and then to an asylum that took care of its patients. Chris Walker being one of the transferred patients. He received facial reconstruction surgery that was paid for by the state, and was favorited by the new and improved asylum staff, who, for the most part, treated him like a well-loved child, which also curved most of his violent tendencies along with proper medication, sedatives and therapy. 

Miles Upshur’s abandoned body was found weeks later in the underground labs of the asylum while it was being vacated and cleared out, and he was given a proper funeral in which hundreds of people, including Waylon and Eddie attended to show respect. His burial was broadcasted and he went down in American journalistic history as a hero for detectives, investigators and journalists everywhere. 

Both Eddie and Waylon’s quality of life improved significantly after treatment, and after experimenting with their relationship and sexualities for 3 years, they came to terms with themselves and married.

to this day, nobody knows what happened to the walrider.


	20. happy ending

2.7 years after discharge.

…

The front door slammed shut.

”Eddie? Sweetheart? Did you make sure you got the white bread? The boys won’t eat that whole wheat shit.”  
I shouted from the living room.

”Yes, of course, Darling. Oh! I also got…” his excited footsteps got closer and I looked behind me from the sofa. He was standing in the doorway, smiling with two little neon berets in either hand.  
I snickered. 

“Don't you think the kids will just look absolutely precious?” He cooed, staring at the hats. I walked over to him and planted a soft kiss on his lips. 

“I know they will.” I smiled. “You know, they’re both really excited for the wedding.” I sat back down on my designated seat.

“So is Lisa. We’re planning the decor together.” Eddie smirked and placed the berets down on the dining table, beginning to put away the groceries he bought.

“What? You’re planning the decor for our wedding with my ex wife?” I couldn’t help but laugh. It was kind of a funny turn of events. He laughed back from the kitchen. I was so happy to be able to hear him be… well, happy.

My heart fluttered. I was seeing my boys tomorrow and all four of us were going to the zoo together. Eddie’s never been to a zoo, so it’ll practically be like having three children to look after. I grinned at the thought. 

I grabbed my car keys from the coffee table. “Alright babe, I’ll be back in a few. Wish me good luck. Don’t forget, channel 423!” I winked and shot a finger gun at my groom after giving him a tight hug goodbye. 

“You’re going to absolutely murder that interview, Darling.” Eddie waved at me as I left the house. 

‘Poor choice of words, but cute’. I thought. 

Fuck yeah. I’m gonna murder that interview.


End file.
